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M  mmmn 


;-;:   -   m^tfomt^ 


'■'  SZc-^-^Jit  ."'i  _ 


COMMEMORATIVE  SERVICES 


AT 


TiETE    ftjistib:rj^il. 


OF 


BLOOMINGTON,   ILLINOIS, 


Jjovcmbcr  I5th,  ISI^. 


E 
D2643C 


5c 


In  PFmoFiam. 


Mr?.  Sakaii  Woodruff  Davis,  daughter  of  the 
Lite  Judge  William  1*.  Walker  of  Lenox,  Massa- 
chusetts, wius  horn  in  Lenox,  Septendjer  4th,  1814. 

She  WAS  educated  at  Xew  Haven  and  Hartford  ; 
in  the  latter  place,  under  the  instructions  of  Cath- 
arine and  Harriet  Beecher. 

On  the  ^iUth  of  Octoher,  1888,  she  was  united 
ni  marriage  with  Mr.  David  Davis  of  Cecil  County, 
Maryland,  wlio,  liaving  read  law  in  the  office  of 
Iiidge  Henry  W.  Bishop  of  Lenox,  had  settled  in 
Illinois,  in  the  practice  of  his  profession,  in  the 
Fall  of  1885. 

After  lier  marriage,  Mrs.  Davis  accompanied  her 
lius]»and  to  his  home  in  Bloomington,  where  she 
has  continued  to  reside  for  more  than  forty  years. 

Two  children  now  survive  her,  George  Perrin 
Davis  of  Bloomington,  Illinois,  and  Mi*s.  Sarah  D. 
Swayne  of  Toledo,  Ohio. 

In  the  month  of  August,  1879,  she  visited  the 
sea-shore  for  the  benefit  of  her  health,  but  not  de- 


93C434 


riving  the  advantage  expected^  she  went  to  \wv 
native  County  in  Ma8rfachu^^etts,  wliere  nhe  wa?^ 
taken  seriously  ill  with  a  disease  of  the  heart ;  and 
after  lingering  for  many  weeks,  she  sank  into  the 
repose  of  death,  ^^he  died,  November  Otli,  1879, 
in  Stockbridge,  Massachusetts,  at  the  residence  of 
1).  II.  Williams,  Esq.,  whose  wife  is  a  sister  of 
Mrs.  Davis. 

An  old  Spanish  proverb  expresses  the  truth  that, 
inasmuch  as  wc  have  to  die,  it  is  sweet  to  die  at 
liome.  Xear  to  the  home  of  her  infancy,  in  tlir 
liouse  of  a  beloved  sister,  surrounded  by  her  hiis- 
l)and  and  rhildren  and  other  relatives,  her  blessed 
spirit  returned  to  (irod  who  gave  it. 

(hi  Tuesday,  November  llth,  appropriate  ser- 
viees  were  conducted  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liams, by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Parker  of  the  Episcopal 
Church  ;  at  the  conclusion  of  which,  the  remains 
of  Mrs.  Davis  were  taken  to  Bloomington, 

The  funeral  took  place  at  the  family  residence, 
at  eleven  o'clock  on  Saturday,  November  15th, 
1879,  and  the  services  were  conducted  by  the  Rev. 
W.  G.  Pierce  of  Champaign,  Illinois,  and  the  Rev. 
John  Maclean,  formerly  Pastor  of  the  First  Pres- 
byterian Church,  Bloomington,  where  Mrs.  Davis 
was  accustomed  to  worship. 


The  nervices  were  introduced  with  the  singing 
of  a  chant,  "  Blessed  are  the  Dead  wlio  die  in  tlic 
L(>rd  ;"  after  whicli  Mr.  Maclean  read  the  foUow- 
ing  selections  from  the  Scriptures  : 

It  is  hetter  to  go  to  the  house  of  mourning  tliaii 
to  ir<>  to  tlie  liousc  of  feastiiiiT,  for  that  is  the  end 
of  nil  men,  and  the  living  will  lay  it  t«>  his  hrai't. 
Lord,  make  mc  to  know  mine  end,  and  the  meas- 
ure of  my  days,  wlmt  it  is  ;  that  I  may  know  liow 
trail  r  am.  Foi-  I  know  that  tliou  wilt  l>ring  me 
to  death,  and  to  the  house  appointed  for  all  living. 
What  man  is  lie  that  livetli  and  shall  not  see 
death?  For  what  is  yonr  life?  It  is  even  a 
vapor  whieh  appeareth  for  a  little  time  and  then 
vanisheth  away. 

Although  atttiction  cometh  not  forth  of  the  dust, 
neither  doth  trouhle  spring  out  of  the  ground,  yet 
man  is  horn  unto  trouhle  as  the  sparks  fly  upward. 
Happy  is  the  man  whom  God  correcteth.  He 
maketh  sore  and  hindeth  up  ;  he  woundeth  and 
his  hands  make  whole.  Though  he  cause  grief, 
yet  will  he  have  compa.ssion  according  to  the  mul- 
titude of  his  mercies.  For  he  doth  not  atflict  wil- 
lingly, nor  grieve  the  children  of  men.  '  If  ye  en- 
dure chastening,  God  dealeth  with  you  as  with 
sons  ;  for  what  son  is  he  whom  the  father  chasten- 


6 

eth  not.  My  son,  despise  not  thou  the  chastening 
of  the  Lord,  nor  faint  when  thou  art  rebuked  of 
hiui  ;  for  whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth, 
and  scourireth  every  son  whom  he  receivetli.  And 
tliou  shalt  remember  all  the  way  which  the  Lord 
thy  God  led  thee,  to  humble  thee  and  to  prov-e 
t]iee,to  kn»jw  what  was  in  thy  heart,  whether  thou 
wouldst  keep  his  commandments  or  no  ;  that  the 
trial  of  your  faith,  being  much  more  precious  than 
of  gold  that  i)erisheth,  though  it  be  tried  with  tire, 
might  be  found  unto  praise,  and  honor,  and  glory, 
at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Cast  thy  burden  upon  the  Lord,  and  he  shall 
sustain  thee.  Wait  on  the  Lord,  and  be  of  goo(l 
courage,  and  he  shall  strengthen  thine  lieart  ; 
wait,  I  say,  on  the  Lord.  Consider  him  that  en- 
dured such  contradiction  of  sinners  against  him- 
self, lest  ye  be  wearied  and  faint  in  your  minds. 
For  as  the  sufterings  of  Christ  abound  in  us,  so 
our  consolation  also  aboundetli  by  Christ. 

Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled  ;  ye  believe  in 
God,  believe  also  in  me.  Li  my  Father's  house 
are  many  mansions.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for 
you,  that  where  I  am  there  ye  may  be  also.  I 
will  not  leave  you  comfortless.  I  will  come  to 
you.      Let  not  your   heart   be   troubled,  neither 


let  it  be  afraid.  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the 
lite  ;  he  that  believeth  in  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  8hall  he  live.  And  whosoever  liveth 
and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die.  F'or  if  we 
l»elieve  that  Jesus  died  and  rose  again,  even  so 
them  also  who  sleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with 
him. 

Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord  from 
liencefortli  ;  Yva,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  thev  may 
rest  from  their  labors  ;  and  their  works  do  follow 
them. 

The  reading  of  tlie  Scriptures  was  folbnved  by 
prayer  offered  by  Mr.  Pierce,  and  by  the  singing 
of  tlie  hymn,  "  Jesus,  Lover  of  My  Soul." 

The  officiating  Ministers  then  delivered  the  fol- 
lowing addresses  : 

Address  of  Rev.  W.  G.  Pierce. 

"Have  pity  upon  nic,  have  pity  upon  me,  0  my 
friends;  for  the  hand  of  God  hath  touched  me." 
This,  to-dav  is  the  lano^uasre  of  the  heart  of  those 
from  wliom  one  has  been  taken  who,  for  a  life- 
time, had  been  life  of  life,  thought  of  thought, 
and  heart  of  heart.  It  is  the  language  of  us  all. 
I  have  lost  a  friend.     So  have  you  all.     This  is  a 


8 

iratliering  of  friends,  for  none  knew  our  deceased 
Sister  hut  to  love  lier.  We  sit  down  toorether  in 
tlie  shadow  of  a  great  sorrow.  We  can  scarcely 
tliiiik  of  anything  Init  our  loss.  Such  at  least  is 
my  experience.  I  can  only  feel  that  the  workl  is 
less  t<>  me  than  it  was.  A  light,  a  strength,  a 
courage,  a  friend  has  gone  from  me.  Yet  our 
faith  hids  us  look  up  from  the  ruins  of  eartljy 
hopes  and  joys,  in  still  a])iding  contideiice  in  God. 
rf  our  eyes  are  dim  with  tears,  an<l  cannot  pene- 
trate the  clouds  ahove  us  to  the  hrightness  hevtMid, 
we  can  sit  here  under  the  clouds  ami  listen  to  these 
words  coming  thence:  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who 
die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth;  ^'ea,  sa.th  the 
Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  lahors;  and 
their  works  do  follow  them." 

Yes,  blessed  are  the  dead  wlio  die  in  the  Lord. 
Tho/  at  least  are  blessed.  Thouiz:h  the  lieart  clinics 
tenaciously  to  those  it  loves,  when  the  word  is 
given,  "  Come  up  higher,"  we  must  believe  it  is 
blessed  to  go.  Then  the  wider,  clearer  vision 
comes.  They  see  the  solution  of  many  of  the 
mysteries  of  life.  Its  trials,  burdens,  and  sorrows 
are  then  known  to  be  less  than  the  griefs  and  pain 
(»f  the  child  under  the  discipline  of  a  tender 
mother.     How  cahn  and  restful  our  Sister  must 


9 

]je,  looking  back  on  us  with  more  than  all  of  her 
old  tenderness,  knowing  that  if  our  way  is  rugged 
and  weary  and  lonely,  it  is  a  short  one  to  hights 
more  serene  than  our  hearts  are  able  to  conceive. 
Yes,  blessed  are  these  dead.  They  have  now  the 
perfect  knowledge  that  tliey  and  we  have  always 
had  a  Heavenly  Father,  and  that  we  have  ever 
1)cen  dwelling  under  the  shadow  of  his  wings. 
They  have  learned  the  boundless  tenderness,  com- 
passion, and  sacrifice  that  were  in  that  Father  from 
the  foundation  of  the  world,  and  to  which  he  gave 
expression  in  the  incarnation  of  his  Son,  Christ 
.lesus.  They  can  comprehend  that  all  of  God's 
ways  with  us — the  disciplines  of  life,  the  penalties 
of  sin,  the  rewards  of  virtue  and  trust — are  the 
outflow  of  infinite  goodness.  Tliis  dear  one  has 
touiul  the  Eternal  Father  for  herself,  ller  heart's 
Itest  liopes,  hopes  'Respite  of  fears,"  have  been 
vindicated.  She  died  in  the  Lord,  having  proved 
her  faith  by  the  Master's  test, — "  By  their  fruits 
ye  shall  know  them."  On  Sunday  night,  Xovem- 
l>er  IHli,  with  her  afflicted  husband  and  son  and 
daughter  by  her  side,  and  surrounded  by  her  kin- 
dred, Mrs.  Davis  passed  from  this  to  a  brighter 
world,  sustained  by  that  Christian  faith  in  which 
from  her  youth  she  had  lived. 


10 


Affection  has  the  privilege  of  the  hour,  and  yet 
that  very  affection  almost  forhids  the  utterance  of 
tliat  which  wells  up  unhidden  from  my  heart.  Let 
me,  tlien,  speak  only  in  such  terms  as  shall  hrieiiy 
illustrate  the  life  of  her  whom  we  mourn  to-day. 

When  Sarah  AVo<  >d ruff  AValkcr,  forty  years  airo, 
}»ledged  her  faith  and  irave  her  hand  t<>  l)avid 
Davis,  she  left  a  home  where  she  had  heen  care- 
ihlly  nurtured,  surrounded  hy  a  larirc  circ-lc  of 
friends,  in  one  of  the  most  charming  places  this 
land  affords.  She  left  father  and  mother,  hrothers 
and  sisters,  and  abundant  opportunities  for  social 
eniovment  and  culture,  and  came  cheerfully  with 
her  Imshand  to  this,  at  that  time,  really  new  eoun- 
try,  and  to  this  place,  then  a  little  village  of  live 
hundred  inhahitants.  Amid  changing  events,  he 
has  never  passed  through  any  rough  place  hut  she 
has  heen  coura^ceouslv  hv  his  side.     lie  has  had 

CD  ft  «. 

no  sorrows  or  trials  whieh  she  did  not  choose  to 
help  him  hear  ;  and  no  joy  of  life  into  which  she 
did  not  enter  with  full  heart.  Iler  life  was  as 
free  and  as  full  of  heart  content  in  tlie  little  cot- 
tage that  first  gave  them  shelter,  and  her  welcome 
to  friends,  as  genuine  and  graceful,  as  here  where, 
in  these  later  years,  she  has  dispensed  such  ahun- 
dant  and  kindly  hospitalit^\     With  added  years, 


11 

slie  has  always  grown  to  the  measure  of  new  and 
added  dutiei*.  I  liardly  need  tell  you  this,  for  she 
has  heen  identified  with  tliis  [ilace  during  almost 
its  entire  history,  growing  in  influence  and  in  the 
ministry  of  love,  as  the  social  circle  enlarged,  and 
its  duties  hecame  greater. 

She  carried  with  her  the  same  power  to  attract 
friends  abroad  that  she  had  at  home  ;  and  mes- 
sages of  sympathy  and  sense  of  loss  come  to  us 
from  all  over  the  land.  Xo  place  was  so  high, 
none  so  humhU*,  which  she  could  not  fill  and  i^race. 
The  secret  of  this  was  genuineness.  "  She  did 
nothing  that  she  did  not  do  well,"  said  one  to  me, 
since  she  died.  George  McI  )onald  says  :  "  To 
know  one  pei"son  who  is  positively  to  be  trusted, 
will  do  more  for  a  man's  moral  nature,  yea,  for 
his  spiritual  nature,  than  all  the  sermons  he  has 
ever  heard,  or  ever  will  hear."  All  who  have 
come  within  the  pure  atmosphere  (»f  Mrs.  Davis' 
life,  have  felt  this  wholesome  infiuence.  She  was 
wholly  genuine  and  trustworthy.  She  did  her 
duty  as  she  saw  it,  but  she  saw  it  not  so  much  a 
word  to  be  spoken,  as  something  to  be  done.  I 
doubt  if  those  about  her  ever  heard  her  say  much 
about  dutv,  or  ever  thousrht  that  she  failed  to  do 
it.      If   there  were  any  promptings  needed,  any 


12 

courage  to  be  strengthened,  any  challenge  of  her- 
self to  be  faithful  to  the  gifts  and  opportunities 
God  had  given  her,  they  were  sought  in  her  secret 
communings  witli  Ilini  who  ha8  promised,  tliat  as 
our  day  is  our  strength  shall  be.  Life  was  a  ricli 
gift  wliich  she  accepted  with  the  loving  confidence 
of  one  who  never  questioned  the  wisdom  of  God. 
It  Wi\s  something  by  which  to  hk'ss  and  to  be 
blessed.  For  her  the  sun  did  not  sliino  in  vain, 
nor  in  vain  did  tlie  flowei*s  ])loom,  nor  earth  spread 
out  its  hmdscapes,  nor  the  aky  its  ])righter  hues. 
They  wrought  within  lier  a  ''  kin<h'ed  order"  and 
beauty.  There  always  sprang  up  around  her,  re- 
sponsively  to  her  toucli,  order,  grace,  and  beauty. 
But  her  human  sympathies  were  her  charm,  and 
were  as  strong  as  they  were  wise.  She  entered 
freely  into  human  ai^pirations,  hopes,  and  plans. 
She  loved  the  society  of  the  young,  for  whom  she 
always  kept  her  heart  fresh  and  warm,  and  for 
whom  she  had  strong  attraction.  Xone  ever  asso- 
ciated with  her  without  feeling  quickened  and 
strengthened  for  a  true  and  useful  life.  She  was 
quick  to  feel  the  misfortunes  of  others;  and  had 
what  I  have  sometimes  thought  the  rarer  virtue  of 
sympathy  with  their  successes  and  joys.  You  have 
many  unrecognized  mourners  in  your  midst  who 


13 

feel  that  thev  have  lost  their  best  and  truest  friend 
on  earth.  It  was  to  her  they  went  with  their  cares 
and  sorrows,  and  from  her  received  kindness  and 
help  in  their  distress.  There  are  no  more  sincere 
mourners  to-day  than  some  who  have  been  en- 
couraorod  and  relieved  by  lier  in  their  dark  hours. 
And  she  was  careful  never  to  humiliate  a  soul 
with  her  gifts.  She  rather  ennobled  and  honored 
those  who  received  them.  All  here  to-dav,  rise 
up  to  pronounce  a  blessin*^  on  her  memory.  Iden- 
titied  with  vour  culture,  vour  societv,  vour  bene- 
factions,  her  life  was  a  silver  weft  woven  into  the 
warp  of  your  history.  All  loved  her,  and  she  had 
not  an  enemy  in  the  world. 

There  is  one  most  sacred  place  on  earth — home. 
It  is  our  place  of  rest.  There  we  find  our  serenest 
joys.  There  we  unfold  our  characters,  and  are 
most  etiicient  in  molding  the  characters  of  others. 
The  sweetest  fragrance  that  ascends  to  Heaven 
arises  from  the  home  otierings  that  atfection  and 
sacrificing  love  lay  upon  its  altar.  From  this  first 
and  best  church,  the  sweetest  heart  music  goes  up 
to  God.  And  this  was  to  our  Sister  the  dearest 
place  on  earth.  She  never  neglected  the  duties  of 
society.  She  was  the  unwavering  friend,  but 
home  was  her  chosen  sanctuary,  and  only  there 


1-4 

could  she  be  thoroughly  known.  Friendship  was 
a  sacred  bond,  but  domestic  love  a  perpetual  sacra- 
ment. From  the  time  she  pledged  her  faith  to 
him  with  whom  she  has  journeyed  through  tour 
decades,  domestic  hfe  and  love  were  to  lier  the  su- 
premest  earthly  good.  Bles.sed  homes  I  ller's  at 
leiu*^t  was  a  resting  place,  and  she  was  the  center 
ot"  its  lite.  It  gave  a  light  that  radiated  tar  beyond 
the  home  circle.  So  should  it  ever  be.  From 
these  quiet  centei*s,  where  our  j>hms  and  hopes  are 
put  to  the  test  of  purity  and  truth,  go  forth  the 
savinjr  influences  in  society  and  in  the  State. 

AVe  are,  tliis  day,  in  the  midst  of  the  handiwork 
of  our  friend.  The  impress  of  her  presence  is  all 
about  us.  These  walls  and  tlieir  a(hu-nments,  this 
order  and  beauty,  are  the  mute  but  eloquent  wit- 
nesses of  what  she  was.  We  are  ready  to  hear 
her  step,  receive  lier  greeting,  and  feel  the  breath 
of  her  presence.  Around  this  home  she  carefully 
trained  the  foliage  and  flowers.  She  delighted  to 
live  among  "  the  roses  and  the  lilies."  Her  garden 
of  flowers  was  never  so  beautiful  as  this  Autumn, 
waiting  to  give  her  a  welcome  home.  Alas  !  the 
Autumn  frosts  have  laid  low  both  them  and  her. 
Instinctively  have  friends  done  the  most  fit  thing 
in    this  marvelous  floral   oflering.      She  will   be 


15 

Ijurne  to  her  tinal  resting  place  from  her  home, 
cnibosoiiied  in  the  flowers  she  loved  so  well,  but 
her  impress  and  presence  abide  with  us  in  the  lives 
she  has  enriched. 

One  ot"  the  most  pleasing  things  1  have  to  siiy 
at  tliis  time  is,  that  lier  life  wius  a  happy  one.  She 
was  content  with  her  lot  in  the  earlier  days,  and 
as  new  good  came,  she  freely  accepted  and  enjoyed 
it.  All  she  had  was  held  i\s  a  siicred  trust,  with 
iin  morl)id  feelings  about  its  use.  She  followed 
ilieerfully  the  Master  in  living  for  otliers;  ainl 
neither  declining  health  nor  growing  years  re- 
strained luT  benevolence  or  slackened  her  hand 
tVoni  doing  the  things  concerning  which  the  Mas- 
ter has  said,  "  Inasnmch  a^  ye  have  done  it  unto 
one  of  tbf  least  «>f  these  my  brethren,  ye  have 
(l«»ne  it  unto  me." 

But  whvdo  I  linirer  from  saviuLT  the  tinal  word  : 

Slio   has  gone,  and   we  cannot   recall   her;  but   we 

can   thank  (iod  that,  for  his  own  appointed  time, 

we  had  the  dear  gift. 

"  Whatever's  lost,  it  first  was  won  ; 
We  will  not  struggle,  nor  impugn: 
rerhaps  tlu*  tup  w:ls  broken  here, 
That  Heaven's  new  wine  might  show  more  clear." 

Ves,  she  is  gone.  And  yet  she  remains.  Her 
life   was   not   wasted.     It    was    a    srood    life,   well 


16 

rounded  out  with  daily  duties  and  daily  blessings. 
To-day  is  the  hour  for  duty,  the  hour  to  form  char- 
acter, the  time  to  bless  and  to  be  blessed.  We 
pile  up  the  yesterdays  and  the  to-morrows  as 
though  all  of  our  good  lay  in  the  one  or  the  other. 
Xo,  this  is  the  hour.     Xow  is  the  accepted  time. 

"  Why  do  we  heap  huge  mounds  of  years 
Before  us  and  behind  ; 
And  scorn  the  little  days  that  pass, 
Like  angels  on  the  wind?" 

We  may  scarcely  enter  the  sacred  precincts  of 
a  husband's  grief,  but  we  can  sit  down  beside  you, 
my  Brother,  and  touch  your  hand  in  sympathy, 
and  say,  "  We  too  are  afflicted  ;  wc  have  lost  a 
friend."  0  !  my  Brother,  I  know  your  Hfe  seems 
rent  in  twain.  Everything  is  changed.  You  can 
scarcely  adjust  your  thoughts  and  feelings.  You 
care  not  to  think  of  the  morrow  before  you.  But, 
my  Brother,  God  is  good.  He  has  been  good  to 
you.  lie  gave  you  a  wife  who  has  been  your  joy 
and  peace  and  rest.  Her  life  has  been  precious  to 
you  and  to  your  children  and  to  God;  and  precious 
also  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his 
saints.  And  now  that  she  is  gone,  she  has  left  the 
benediction  of  a  wife  on  you,  the  benediction  of  a 
mother  on  your  children,  the  benediction  of  a 
friend  on  us  all.     Your  heart  is  sore,  and  there 


17 

are  long  sober  hours  before  you,  but  you  know 
what  she  would  say;  yea,  though  dead,  she  does 
speak  with  all  the  tenderness  of  past  years,  ^'Hus- 
band,  live  on.  It  lias  been  good  for  me  to  live; 
it  is  good  for  you.  Duties  are  before  you;  meet 
them  courageously  and  hopefully.  Bear  the  cross 
in  Christ's  name;  his  yoke  is  ea^y  and  liis  burden 
light." 

As  a  mother,  she  has  bequeathed  to  you,  her 
children,  a  holy  legacy  of  love  and  of  duty  done. 
You  will  find  it  the  sweetest  and  most  sanctifying 
of  your  memories.  To-day,  you  can  only  think 
of  the  loss,  and  feel  the  sorrow ;  but  to  recall  her 
words  and  deeds,  to  linger  over  her  portrait — 
shadow  of  her  presence — will,  by  and  by,  bring 
you  holy  peace.    God  bless  and  comfort  you  all. 

My  friends,  although  our  lives  may  be  fruitful 
and  rich  in  good  works,  let  us  not  live  as  though 
time  bounded  our  horizon.  It  is  good  to  live,  if 
we  live  well.  There  is  a  dawn  of  Heaven  in  such 
life.  If  life  here  is  matched  on  to  Eternity,  if  it 
is  the  first  step  in  the  ladder  that  leads  to  the  sum- 
mit, then  it  has  value.  But  if  the  present  is  all 
we  are  living  for,  if  our  hopes  are  hedged  in  and 
measured  by  the  few  hours  we  live  on  this  earth, 
then  how  valueless  !     Only  a  life  whose  good  is  to 


18 

be  perpetuated,  is  a  blessing.  Tbe  sun  of  tbis  life 
bat;  not  set.  Tbese  departing  ones  disappear  to 
eartb  and  appear  in  gl(>ry.  Sbe  wbo  bas  now  gone 
liad  a  bappy  and  boautiful  bfe  in  tbis  world,  and 
all  tbe  nioi'f  does  sbe  n(>\v  (kdigbt  in  tbe  seenes 
and  eniploynients  ot'  Ileavi'ii.  ()ui-  duties  in  tbo 
present  art*  our  bigbest  privik»ges,  and  are  the 
gateway  to  peace  liere  and  U>  glory  bereafter.  Let 
us  sbape  tbe  present  to  tbe  future,  our  li\ cs  now 
for  tlie  life  eteinal.  Let  us  live  ba\ing  (»ur  lamps 
trimmed  and  our  ligbts  bui-nmg,  foi-  we  know  not 
tbe  day  or  the  bour  wbe!i  tbe  Son  ot  Man  eometb. 
And  so  farewell,  loved  Wife;  farewell  dearest 
Motber;  farewell.  Sister,  Friend.      Farewell. 


Address  of  Rev.  John  M-\clean. 

Anotber  of  tbe  >-Ad  days  of  my  life  biui  eome. 
Scarcely  can  1  trust  myself  to  give  utterance  to 
my  emotions;  and  as  now  we  are  drawing  so  near 
to  tlie  last  of  tbese  .sad  ceremonies,  I  am  tbe  more 
tbankful  tbat  1  bad  limited  myself  to  a  few  brief 
words  of  atfectionate  sympatby.  Katber  would  I 
turn  aside,  and  weep,  and  be  silent. 

Afflictions  bave  swept  over  me,  in  days  gone  by, 
and  left  me  mourning  and  desolate.    I  bave  known 


19 

the  i^ri ef  uf  a  fatlier  stricken  and  bereaved  ot'  his 
children.  But  here  is  a  new  experience.  I  am 
Htricken  and  hereaved  of  a  iherinhed  friend,  of 
one  whose  tender,  practical  sympathy  in  the  tinit 
of  our  ijorrow,  and  whone  generous  lieart  and  heaii- 
tiful  life,  duriiiiT  tlie.se  nianv  years  of  our  associa- 
tion,  endeared  her  to  every  nieinher  of  my  house. 
Instinctively,  for  a  moment,  we  think  of  this  as  it 
affects  ourselves;  and  the  cry  of  anguish  is  wrung, 
first  of  all,  from  our  consciousness  of  personal  ca- 
lamity. 1  am,  to-day,  mourning  my  own  loss;  and 
in  thus  expressing  my  sense  of  my  deep  bereave- 
ment in  this  mystery  of  death,  I  kfiow  that  1 
speak  for  all  who  are  here  to  render  their  hust  siid 
tribute  of  affectionate  remembranee. 

But  what  is  imr  loss  compared  with  that  of  him 
who  mourns  a  beloved,  devoted  wife?  of  tho.^t- 
who  mourn  a  beloved,  faithful  mother?  To  1ki\< 
the  light  of  our  life  extinguished,  the  joy  t»f  our 
lieart  blighted,  the  companion  of  our  younger  ami 
riper  vears  stricken  awav  from  our  side — to  have 
suddenly  taken  from  our  very  arms  the  dearest  ob- 
ject of  our  love,  and  to  know  that  the  grave  will 
cover  it  from  our  sight  forever  in  this  life — this  i> 
the  climax  of  Death's  sorrowful  work.  The  sense 
of  our  bereavement  becomes  lost  in  the  thoutrht 


20 

of  this  deeper  bereavement,  and  we  cease  to  grieve 
for  ourselves  as  we  see  the  darker  shadow  of  grief 
covering  these  agonized  hearts.  Yes,  we  turn  to 
weep  witli  those  who  here  weep  ;  and  as  our  tears 
of  sympathy  mingle  with  theirs,  we  press  the  hands 
of  our  stricken  friends,  and  commend  them  to  the 
gracious  keeping  of  Ilim  who  ha^s  ever  given  con- 
solation and  peace  to  the  cliildren  of  sorrow. 

It  is  not  a  mishap  or  chance  which  has  fallen  to 
their  sad  experience.  The  events  of  life,  he  they 
ever  so  distressing  or  joyous,  are  in  no  respect  in- 
dependent of  Him  whose  wise  providence  is  over 
all  his  creatures.  We  may  be  inclined  t<>  wondiT 
that  with  many  of  his  own  redeemed,  God's  prov- 
idences are  sometimes  most  severe  ;  but  we  are 
sure,  from  our  knowledge  of  the  loving  nature  of 
God,  and  from  his  own  loving  word,  that  he  never 
willingly  grieves  or  afflicts  any  of  the  children  of 
men.  His  ways  are  the  ways  of  a  wise  and  tender 
Father,  who  cha^stises  because  he  loves,  and  regards 
with  compassion  even  while  he  lays  upon  us  the 
rod  of  his  correction.  It  is  for  our  profit,  that  we 
may  be  partakers  of  his  holiness.  Before  his 
presence  we  here  humbly  bow.  In  his  righteous 
dealing  with  us  we  would  most  willingly  acqui- 
esce.    It  is  the  Lord,  let  him  do  what  seemeth 


21 

him  good.     The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  hath 
taken  away  ;  ])le8sed  be  the  name  of  tlie  Lord. 

Xor  does  he  leave  us  to  bear  alone  the  trials  of 
this  preparatory  life.  In  all  our  affliction  he  is  af- 
flicted, and  the  Angel  of  his  presence  saves  us. 
In  the  darkness  of  our  night  of  sorrow,  and  above 
the  storm  of  our  adversities,  we  may  hear  his 
voice  : — "It  is  I,  he  n(>t  afraid."  His  own  assur- 
ing promise  is  to  every  bereaved,  weeping  soul  : — 
"  T  will  never  leave  thee,  nor  forsake  thee."  Here 
then  is  the  light  in  the  shadow  of  deatli,  the  con- 
solation in  this  day  of  bitter  and  absorbing  grief. 
The  compassionate  face  of  a  sympathizing  l^ivine 
Savior  beams  upon  us,  thougli  tears  may  hide  the 
vision.  The  hand  of  faith  may  reach  within  this 
overhanging  cloud  and  meet  the  pressure  of  the 
liand  of  Him  who,  himself,  was  "  touched  with  the 
feeling  of  our  infirmities  ; "  who  wept  with  the 
sisters  of  Bethany  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus,  his 
friend  ;  and  who,  a  man  of  sorrows,  and  acquainted 
with  grief,  hath  borne  our  griefs,  and  carried  our 
sorrows. 

But  is  this  all  ?  Is  there  no  bright  side  to  the 
providence  itself?  Must  we  look  into  the  face  of 
inexorable  Death,  and,  while  we  think  of  our  be- 
reavement, take  onlv  this  consolation,  that  it  is 


22 

well  because  it  is  the  way  of  a  wise  God,  and  we 
should  acquiesce  in  it  ;  that  it  is  for  our  correction 
and  improvement,  and  we  should  humbly  accept 
it  ;  and  that  we  have  the  sympathy  of  the  correct- 
ing Father,  and  we  should  not  be  discouraged? 
Is  this  all  ?  Xav,  there  is  that  in  the  transformed 
condition  and  experiences  of  our  dear  dead  friend, 
wliicli  more  than  compensates  us  for  all  our  iiii- 
iruisli  ill  speakin*:  <>'u*  last  farewell,  and  la  vine: 
away  Irm*  precious  body  to  ])e  seen  no  more  on 
i'arth.  Wvv  lifi'  anioiii^  us  was  indeed  beautiful 
and  praiseworthy — we  are  witnesses  of  her  lovely 
(harac'ter,  (jf  her  unselfish  initure,  of  \ivv  unosten- 
tatious, Christian  demeanor,  of  her  gentleness  and 
cheerfulness  and  charity,  of  her  hopefulness  and 
trust  and  wisdom  ;  but,  as  incident  to  the  rarest 
Imnian  virtues,  in  this  sin-bhghted  world,  there 
are  anxieties  and  disappointments  and  sicknesses 
and  death  ;  and  in  these  she  shared  the  common 
lot  of  us  all.  But  now,  forever,  every  taint  or 
trace  of  imperfectness  has  passed  away.  To  her 
is  no  more  the  consciousness  of  the  trials  and  fail- 
ures of  earthlv  life,  no  more  the  enfeebled  bodv, 
the  fainting  heart,  and  pang  of  death.  The  cor- 
ruption has  put  on  incorruption,  the  mortal  has 
put  on  immortality,  and  God  has  wiped  away  all 


23 

her  tears.  The  happiness  of  heaven  is  to  her  no 
IcniiTer  a  faith,  hut  an  experience.  Her  sanctifica- 
tion  is  completed  in  the  glorification  which  assim- 
ilates her  to  Christ.  What,  thougli  we  have  here 
the  heautifiil  earth  whose  verdure  and  dowers  she 
loved  so  well?  there,  hefore  her  wondering  eyes, 
is  the  more  heautiful,  radiant  Heaven,  the  "hetter 
country,"  "  the  Paradise  of  God,"  wherein  is  tlie 
river  and  tree  of  life.  What,  though  she  was 
identified  with  the  interests  of  this  heautiful  city, 
in  whose  growth  and  prosperity  and  adornment 
she  has  rejoiced,  these  forty  years?  now  she  iii- 
ha])its  the  Citv  of  our  God,  the  holv  Jerusalem 
whijse  walls  are  jasper,  tlie  foundations  of  wliieh 
are  garnished  with  all  manner  of  precious  stones, 
whose  gates  are  pearls,  whose  streets  are  pure  gold, 
and  in  the  midst  of  which  is  the  throne  of  God. 
Here  is  the  well-appointed,  heautiful  home  which 
\[vv  [»resence  so  well  adorned  and  dignified,  and  in 
whose  quiet,  social  delights  she  was  always  happy  ; 
there  she  dwells  in  the  better  mansions  of  the  re- 
deemed, the  building  of  God,  the  house  not  made 
with  liands,  eternal  in  the  heavens. 

Can  it  be  all  of  sadness  to  us  to-day  in  view  of 
such  a  transformation  ?  Xay.  in  the  spirit  of  her 
own  imselfish  life,  though  we  are  left  to  wait  and 


24 


weep,  we  lift  our  eyes  and  hands  to  heaven,  and 
bless  our  God  that  she  is  so  exalted.  We  would 
not,  if  we  could,  take  from  her  brow  the  crown  of 
perfect  happiness  and  heavenly  beauty,  and  call 
her  down  even  to  this  lovely  home.  With  all  our 
yearning  and  moaning  for  her  presence,  we  would 
not  selfishly  wish  that  her  white  rolie  should  be 
laid  aside,  and  that  the  company  of  the  glorified 
with  whom  she  now  stands  before  the  throne  of 
God,  should  be  exchanged  for  earth's  loveliest  and 
best.  Earth  is  indeed  robbed  of  some  of  its  beauty, 
but  Heaven  has  this  new  charm. 

And  tliere,  at  the  great  white  throne,  in  the 
image  of  the  glory  of  her  Lord,  she  waits  for  you, 
husband,  children,  friends.  You  may  go  to  her, 
but  she  shall  not  return  to  you.  Happy  the  re- 
unions in  the  heavenly  home,  as,  one  by  one,  we 
are  changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to 
fi^lorv  I  Surelv,  thous^h  to  live  is  Christ,  to  die  is 
gain.  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither 
have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  the  things 
which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love  him. 
Surely,  it  were  better  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ. 
But,  walking  in  the  footsteps  of  the  faithful  who 
have  gone  before  us,  stimulated  to  earnestness  of 
purpose  and  life  by  their  example,  and  submitting 


25 

ournelvep  to  him  who  knows  best  "  the  times  and 
8eaw)ns,"  we  wait  his  will.  Patiently  let  us  wait 
all  the  (lays  of  our  appointed  time  until  our  chanire 
comes,  encouraged  hy  the  a^urance  that  our  life 
if.  hid  with  Christ  in  G<k1,  and  that  wlien  Christ, 
wh(>  is  our  life,  shall  appear,  then  shall  we  also 
ap[>ear  with  him  in  i^l<»ry. 

At  the  conclusion  of  tlie  iwldresses,  tlie  services 
at  tlie  house  were  closed  hy  .ninging  the  liynm. 
"Asleep  in  Jesus,  Blessed  Sleep." 


At  the  Cemetery,  the  words  of  consignment  to 
the  grave  were  s|>oken,  and  tlu*  parting  Benedic- 
tion w:u*  pronounced  ;  and  tlie  hody  of  Mrs.  Davis, 
siicred  in  the  memory  of  all  wlio  knew  her,  now 
lies  heneath  the  sod,  under  the  fallen  leaves,  await- 
ing its  resurrection  at  the  glorious  couiing  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ. 


